


Allergic to Petunias

by Avelyesqe



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, M/M, so much fluff i can't handle it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 21:44:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/740488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avelyesqe/pseuds/Avelyesqe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac looks at the screen and sighs. It’s another bunny. Jehan has spent the last couple of weeks showing him pictures of bunnies because they’re so ‘fluffy’ and ‘cute.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	Allergic to Petunias

**Author's Note:**

> Vaguely inspired by some bunny drawings that my friend drew me.  
> I'll link to these at the fluff.
> 
> c:
> 
> (Also I have never owned a bunny so if there are any blatant errors feel free to let me know, sorry I am bad at pets. D: )  
> (This was also only supposed to be like a thousand words but then somehow it wasn't oops.)

“Courf, look at it!” Jehan squeals from in front of his laptop.   
And naturally, because this is a squealing Jehan and Courfeyrac we’re talking about, even though he’s in the middle of writing a moderately important paper, Courfeyrac drops what he’s doing and goes to peer of the poet’s shoulder.  
“It’s so cute!” Jehan squeaks, furiously swatting at the dust around him.  
Courfeyrac looks at the screen and sighs. It’s another bunny. Jehan has spent the last couple of weeks showing him pictures of bunnies because they’re so ‘fluffy’ and ‘cute.’ While the bunny is adorable (all of the bunnies Jehan has showed him are adorable, actually), Courfeyrac can’t help but to be swept into Jehan’s frantic giggling. He wraps his arms around the sitting poet and scoops him up with a murmur of “Oh, Jehan.” 

Jehan looks innocently into Courfeyrac’s eyes. “They’re like fuzzy balls of happiness. I don’t understand how you can’t fall in love at first sight.”   
Courfeyrac laughs and gives Jehan a quick peck on the forehead. “I think I did,” he whispers before nuzzling his face into the poet’s shoulder and placing the smaller man back on the ground.   
“I was talking about the bunnies,” Jehan says, pointedly, but his irritated façade breaks as Courfeyrac tucks a few strands of loose hair behind his ear. Jehan leans into the brunette as he’s pulled into a tight embrace. He can hear himself whimper when Courfeyrac lets go.   
“Don’t you have class?” Courfeyrac asks, glancing at his watch.   
A wave of panic crashes over Jehan, because, yes, he does, and he is ten minutes late.   
“Oops.” 

He grabs his bag and his poetry notebook before rushing out of their apartment. “I’ll see you tonight,” he calls over his shoulder as he races out the door, his sweater billowing behind him.   
As the door shuts, Courfeyrac lets out a sigh of relief and pulls out his phone to call Joly. 

“Is it ready?” he asks immediately.

“Well, hello to you too, Courf,” Joly responds.

“He’s at class, Joly. I don’t have time for this.”

“I’ll have you know that bunnies are—“

“Yes, yes. I know. Is it ready?” Courfeyrac says urgently, like Jehan’s life depended on it (and it very well might because god help the poor soul who ruins Courfeyrac’s grand gestures). 

“She is. Do you want me to drop him off?” 

“Yes, please. Thanks a dozen, Joly.” Courfeyrac says as he rushes about to get the cage and bunny essentials ready.

“Mhmm,” the pre-med student hums before he hangs up.   
\---   
Jehan comes home a couple hours later to a dark house. “Courf?” he calls into the darkness, precariously walking through the apartment in search of a light switch. As soon as he sets foot in the kitchen, Courfeyrac flips the lights on, and the only thing Jehan can see is a very large pink bow tied to the top of a cage. 

As the shock of the massive bow wears off (“Honestly, Couf. Is this necessary?” “Of course, Joly.” “But it’s as big as both of our heads!” “Is that an ego slam?” “Courf—“ “Because I’ll have you know, I am the master of grand gestures.” “I know, Courf.” “So of course this is necessary. It’s the dramatic flair and presentation aspect of this bunny.” “Right…” “Just shhh, Joly. And keep tying it to the cage.” “Whatever you say.”), Jehan starts to notice the movement within the cage and once he finally realizes what it is he rushes to Courfeyrac, who is nonchalantly leaning against the kitchen wall, and squeezes all of the air out of the brunette. 

“Oh, Courfeyrac!” Jehan exclaims as he lets go and excitedly bounces over to the cage. 

Courfeyrac only smiles in response, delighted to see his poet so happy. 

Jehan sits criss-cross applesauce in front of the cage and carefully opens it and retrieves the bunny. Cradling it in his lap he whispers to it, cooing as he sees fit. 

“Yes, you’re a good bunny. Mhmm. I bet you’re the bunny all the other bunnies are jealous of because you’re so soft and fluffy. Mhmm. Good little bunny.” He looks up when he feels Courfeyrac kneel behind him and he stretches to give the other man a quick kiss. 

“Have you named him?” Jehan asks quietly, petting the bunny (who has finally stopped shaking).

“I figured we’d do that together.” 

“Hmm,” Jehan mutters, looking at the bunny. He starts reviewing his encyclopedia of cute pet names in his head, before he realizes that he doesn’t even know the gender of the bunny yet.

“It’s a girl,” Courfeyrac states plainly, reading Jehan’s mind (which happens more than one would think, but Eponine explains it as a “Jehan and Courfeyrac thing. They were just made for each other.”). 

“Petunia, then,” Jehan decides, prompting Courfeyrac to pluck one of the flowers tucked into the poet’s braid and place it delicately behind the bunny’s ear. 

“Perfect,” Courfeyrac says to no one in particular. Whether he means the name or his life (or Jehan even), is anyone’s guess. 

That night the two sleep curled around each other with Petunia lying in a floral print bunny bed at the foot of their bed (by morning she has hopped up and slept between them). 

\---  
The next day at the Musain, Jehan is animatedly showing pictures of his new bunny to Eponine, Feuilly, Bahorel, and Grantaire when Joly clears his throat. 

“You better love me, Prouvaire,” the exhausted pre-med student mutters as he slides into the seat next to the excited poet. Bossuet steps up behind Joly and begins to massage the student’s back. 

“I have spent almost a month getting that bunny in the ‘perfect condition’ so Courfeyrac could present her to you.” 

Bossuet nods in agreement and Joly moans under the other man’s hands. “It has been exhausting. Courfeyrac even made me go bunny shopping with him,” he pauses and looks up to meet Jehan’s eyes. “He asked me to rate their fluffiness.”

“I’m sorry, Jol—“

“On a scale of a dandelion to Enjolras’ bedhead.” Bossuet can hear the exhaustion roll off of his boyfriend’s tongue and continues his massage as he speaks.

“Joly had a pet bunny when he was younger,” he explains while he presses his thumbs along Joly’s shoulder blade. “According to Courfeyrac, that means he’s the resident bunny expert, so Courf dragged him along.” 

Jehan nods knowingly. “He can be very…”

“Aggressive? Pushy? Over-the-top?” Joly questions tiredly, as Bossuet rubs all the tension in his shoulders away. 

“Enthusiastic. He likes planning,” Jehan says, in defense of his lover. 

“As long as you’re happy Jehan. That’s really all that matters to him,” Bossuet continues, trying his best to keep Joly’s fatigue from ruining Jehan’s chipper mood. 

Jehan blushes. “Of course I’m happy. I’d be happy with just Courfeyrac.” Suddenly, his thumbs are very interesting and he can’t help but to twiddle them. Bossuet smirks, but otherwise doesn’t react. 

“It’s very cute, Jehan,” Eponine comments while staring at his (pink) phone. She passes it back to him with a sigh. “I always wanted a pet but bringing one into my house always sounded like a bad idea.”

“Don’t you live in your own apartment?” Grantaire asks, raising an eyebrow.

She shakes her head. “I’m moving into ‘Ferre’s place since Cosette’s moved into Marius’. You know how it is. Rent is expensive.” She shrugs, as nonchalantly as she can manage.

“Right,” Grantaire says, his familiar sarcasm pouring from his lips, “because that’s the only reason you’re moving into ‘Ferre’s apartment.” 

Eponine opens her mouth to protest, but stops when she hears Feuilly and Bahorel snickering.   
“Hahaha, Mister ‘Oh I’m straight,’” she says with a harsh glare in their direction. The snickering stops instantly and both of their faces go blank. 

“I,” Bahorel starts “never claimed to be straight.” He finishes with a nod of his head, and everyone at the table is trying to think of a time that he did, just to prove him wrong. Feuilly says nothing, instead opting to blush so brightly his face almost matches his hair. His freckles disappear entirely. 

Eponine smirks, which prompts a panicked Feuilly to blurt out the question “why can’t you get a pet at ‘Ferre’s?” in an attempt to redirect their attention off of the Bahorel-induced bruises around his hips (which they can’t see, because he’s wearing a shirt, but Feuilly doesn’t really care, he just—how did they find out?). 

Eponine shrugs. “I figure I should wait a little while before bringing a small organism into his house.”

“Aren’t you a small organism?” Bahorel asks between laughs. 

Eponine, done with play these word games (words were always more of Enjolras’ thing), playfully (or not so playfully, it’s hard to tell with Eponine. Everything hurts anyway) slaps Bahorel on his arm (he won’t tell her, but it bruised a little (he also won’t tell her the Feuilly very tenderly cared to it later that night (she probably already knows))). 

At the front of the room Enjolras clears his throat, and Combeferre starts the meeting about something or other; none of them are paying all that much attention (Jehan, Eponine, and Grantaire are exceptions to this, as their gazes are both focused exclusively at the three men running the meeting (but it’s not as if they’re actually listening, that’d be too much to ask of them)).   
\---  
Jehan sits in the doctor’s office, blowing his nose (for about the eighth time that visit, jeez, Jehan, what is wrong with you?) as Courfeyrac talks to the doctor about medicines or treatments or whatever. Jehan sighs when Courfeyrac sits next to him and rubs his back.

“The verdict?” he asks solemnly, blowing his nose once again.  
“Well you’re not sick,” Courfeyrac says cheerfully. 

“Okay…then?” Jehan asks, confused. 

“You’re probably allergic to Petutnia.” 

Courfeyrac says it so quickly that Jehan misses the statement in its entiretly.

“What?”

“You’re…allergic…to the bunny…” 

As soon as the last syllable falls from Courfeyrac’s lips, Jehan’s face falls and Courfeyrac could swear that he sees some tears. 

“Jehan, don’t worry about it,” Courfeyrac murmurs quietly, running a hand along Jehan’s cheek. 

“But-but you got her for me and you spent all that time and you even bothered poor Joly about it and Courfeyrac, I’m so sorry and—“ 

But he’s cut off from a tight embrace from Courfeyrac, who lets go only to grab Jehan’s shoulders and look directly into the poet’s eyes. 

“Don’t you dare think this is you betraying my love,” he says slowly, being sure that Jehan understands every word. “I know you like Petunia, but you’re miserable, Jehan. Just look at yourself” (and even Jehan has to admit that it’s true because he look even smaller than usual in his oversized cat sweater and his nose is red and his eyes are wet and if they weren’t in a doctor’s office, oh the things Courfeyrac would do to him). 

“We’ll figure it out,” Courfeyrac promises the man in his arms. “You’ll still be able to see her, I’ll make sure of it.” 

Jehan can only nod and lean further into Courfeyrac’s embrace.  
\---  
“Eponine,” Combeferre starts, casually leaning against the doorframe to her bedroom (because she had insisted on having separate bedrooms because goddammit, she was going to prove Grantaire wrong (even though they all knew that he was right)). 

“Mhmm?” She doesn’t turn around from where she’s sitting on the floor, leaning against the foot of her bed.

“I haven’t seen you all day. Have you even left the house?” He asks tentatively, stepping into the room. 

“I went out to get some more fruits and food and stuff,” she says absentmindedly, paying far more attention to ball of fluff in her lap. 

“That was yesterday.”

At this, she looks up at Combeferre with innocent, wide eyes. “Oh.” Her mouth hangs around the syllable and after a moment she starts to look guilty. “I didn’t realize…” she trails off, trying to remember what she had been doing for the past day. She looks down at Petunia and grimaces. Yes, the bunny is very cute (“She’s adorable.” “I know, Courf.” “Thanks, ‘Ponine.” “No problem, Jehan.” “Did you talk to ‘Ferre about this?” “Uh…yeah…” “Eponine!” “I mean, Courf said it himself, she’s adorable. There’s no way he’ll say no.” “Whatever you say.” “Shut it, Courf. This is all your fault anyway.”), but there’s really no excuse for ignoring Combeferre when a) she’s just moved into his apartment and b) it’s Combeferre, who never asks for anything or ever pushes her to change or tries to convince her that she needs him. Combeferre, who has been more than tolerant of her idiosyncrasies (“Is there any particular reason you’re sitting upside down?” “…It’s a long story and has a lot to do with the lack of furniture at home.” “Are you going to tell me?” “Maybe later?” “Okay”), completely accepting of her faults, and just honest with her. 

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs quietly, refusing to meet his gaze, but he just slides onto her bed and kisses her forehead. 

“It’s okay, but I would like to see you sometime soon.” 

She blushes as she nods and carefully picks Petunia up and holds the bunny up for Combeferre to see. “She’s super cute though, so you can’t entirely blame me for not wanting to put her down.” She finishes her thought with a small lighthearted laugh, and doesn’t realize that Combeferre has completely fallen in love with the tiny ball of fluff until he plucks the bunny from her hands and sets Petunia in his lap, cooing to her quietly. To be fair, this is the first time Combeferre has actually gotten to see the bunny in person (because pictures don’t quite do her fluffiness justice), as between Jehan, Eponine, and Courfeyrac, no one else has gotten to hold her.

Eponine smirks and she gets up off the floor. “I’ll leave you two alone to have your cuddly times.” She flits out of the room after giving him a peck on the cheek. 

“I’ll make dinner,” she calls as she strides into the kitchen. “And Jehan is coming over to see Petunia with Joly.” 

The only reply she gets is a soft “mhmm,” as Combeferre falls prey to the charm of the bunny’s large blue eyes and soft grey fur. 

\---  
When Eponine opens the door two hours later, she’s greeted by an enthusiastic Jehan wearing a surgical mask.

“Should I ask?” she questions, as she steps aside to let the pair in.

“So he can see the bunny,” Joly offers as explanation with a sigh. “He’s bothered me all day, asking me how to cure him of his allergies.”

“He was afraid I was going to die if I came into contact with Petunia again. So he gave me this mask,” Jehan pipes in, pointing at his mask (which has been delightfully covered in flower stickers and pompoms).   
Joly just shrugs before taking a seat at the counter. “I see you have made food.”

Eponine nods, draining the pasta over the sink. “I did.”

“Can I consume this food?”

Eponine’s laugh fills the apartment. When she turned around she saw a very exhausted Joly trying his best to smoulder at her. 

“I made the pasta for every, but I dunno, Joly. After subjecting me to that face I might just have to rescind your food privileges.”

“But Eponine!” 

During this exchange, Jehan has happily made his way into Eponine’s room to play with the bunny. If Combeferre noticed the mask, he doesn’t say anything, and the two play with Petunia, taking turns to pet her and make faces at her. 

About ten minutes later Courfeyrac shows up with Bossuet and Musichetta in tow. “I have arrived!” he calls cheerfully from outside the apartment.

“You won’t have arrived if I don’t let you in,” Eponine calls, as she serves Joly a second helping of pasta. 

They can hear Courfeyrac start whining from outside, and as Eponine goes to unlock the door, she can vaguely hear Joly mutter something about the health differences in wheat and white pasta. 

“Hello, darling!” Musichetta chimes, giving Eponine a tight squeeze as she enters. Courfeyrac, on the other hand, immediately goes off to find Jehan, and Bossuet takes it upon himself to devour Joly’s pasta while the hypochondriac isn’t looking. 

It’s only few seconds after their greetings do they hear crash from Eponine’s room.

Eponine, of course, quickly darts to her room, leaving the other three to trail slowly behind her.

“What happened?” she blurts out as soon as she can fling the door open. But she’s not surprised when she sees Courfeyrac rolling around on the floor (“Jesus Christ, Courf, you look like an idiot”), Jehan frantically prancing around trying to catch a very bouncy Petunia, and Combeferre sitting on her bed near the headboard and sighing into his palms. Eponine’s textbooks are strewn about the floor and her drapes have fallen down as well. 

With a sigh, she goes over to lean into Combeferre’s shoulder (and he does that thing he does, where he slinks a little lower so her head can rest on his shoulder comfortably. Eponine hums appreciatively, ignoring the mess they’ve made of her room), and he starts explaining what had happened.

“Courfeyrac found a recipe for ‘catnip for bunnies’ and thought it’d be a good idea to try it out. Petunia started hopping all over the place, and Jehan and Courfeyrac crashed into each other while they were trying to catch her, hence why Courf is on the floor. Jehan doesn’t want her to get hurt, so he’s still trying to catch her.” 

“My poor room,” Eponine laments, looking at the disaster zone surrounding her bed.

“You could stay in mine tonight, if you would like,” Combeferre says, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. 

Closing her eyes, Eponine tries to block out the frantic noise around her (“Jehan, you have to put the mask back on!” “But, I need to catch her—“ “Do you want to start sneezing?” “No…” “I’ll catch her for you, Jehan.” “Courf, you could hardly catch your own breath if you weren’t constantly surrounded by air.” “Jehan. Mask. Now.” “Darling, I’m sure he heard you.” “Thank you, Musichetta. Courf, will you please help me?” “Guys, I think Eponine is trying to sleep.” “How could she sleep when there’s a Petunia here?” “Or a Courfeyrac.” “I heard that, Bossuet!” “Good.”). 

She lets out a sleepy murmur. “Maybe,” it’s whimsical, singsong-y, and childlike. Combeferre smiles. 

“Are you really that tired?”

“No, I just want them to leave,” she whispers, nuzzling into his shoulder. She can’t see it, but Combeferre rearranges his glasses before shooting Bossuet a pointed look. The other man understands, and quickly (and thankfully quietly) rounds up Joly and Musichetta, who in turn pull Courfeyrac out of the room as Jehan (with the mask on) shares a quiet goodbye to his Petunia. 

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” he tells the bunny. He’s not sure she understands, but he pats her on the head and carefully puts her back into her bunny bed. When he’s finished admiring her (and taking instagram photos (of the bunny and Combeferre and Eponine)), he slips out of the room and joins the others in the kitchen so they can finish off the last of Eponine’s pasta. 

“Are they gone?” Eponine whispers. When Combeferre nods, she opens her eyes and stretches. “I love them,” she says, looking blankly at her room, “but they are obnoxious.” 

Wrapping his arms around her, he rocks them both. “Yes, but we wouldn’t love them if they weren’t.” 

Nodding in agreement, Eponine leans back into his embrace and leaves a trail of kisses up his neck. Enraptured in each other, the two don’t notice Petunia bouncing out of her bed and jumping onto Eponine’s, where the bunny makes herself at home in Eponine’s lap. 

They don’t know when the others leave, but they fall asleep like that, and find Petunia happily nibbling on Combeferre’s pant leg the next morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Okeydokey.  
> So  
> Courf/Jehan Buns: http://birdsfalldown.tumblr.com/post/46615538487/courf-bun-and-jehan-bun-jebun-i-tried-because  
> E/R Buns: http://birdsfalldown.tumblr.com/post/46615535184/last-of-the-buns-e-r-buns-it-looks-like-blood  
> Ferre/Ponine Buns: http://birdsfalldown.tumblr.com/post/46615531821/combebun-and-ebunine-epobun-mmgkgk-because-you
> 
> And go visit her at  
> spizacki.tumblr.com or zaccat.deviantart.com   
>  because she's lovely.


End file.
